


Who Have We Become?

by onekisstotakewithme



Series: Swamp(y) Snogs [5]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bisexual BJ Hunnicutt, Bisexual Hawkeye Pierce, M/M, Post-War, Swamp(y) Kisses, hunnihawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 23:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13623942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/pseuds/onekisstotakewithme
Summary: “Hey there soldier, you come here often?”The war is over, so they say. Over and done.Hawkeye never expected to see his best friend after the war ended... and who are they without it looming over them?





	Who Have We Become?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flootzavut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/gifts).



> because I owe a lot to you, and so these are *all* for you (as always) xx

“Dr. Pierce?”

“Yo?” Turning around, he’s already regretting the choice of words (it’s a habit, a bad one, like so many he developed in Korea), only to find Rachel, his receptionist, watching with raised eyebrows.

“There’s a visitor for you.”

“Send them-,”

“Waiting in your office,” she says with a smile. He starts walking away, but turns back, something nagging at him.

“Rachel?”

“Yes Doctor?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have any family in Iowa, would you?”

“No sir. Maine through and through.”

“I was too,” he tells her, and it brings a tired grin to his face. “And then I came down with a fatal case of Korea. No cure.”

She nods and makes her way back to her desk, leaving him standing in the hallway. A rainy spring day in Maine, one that about matches his mood. He came home from Korea with a few less marbles, to a nice quiet practice, and a real house with a real bed and real food, and a town that no longer knows him.

He spends a lot of days bored out of his skull. It isn’t that he’s not excited to be home, but there are suddenly too many hours in a day where there used to be not enough. Too much of Korea and too few of his marbles came home with him.

At least for today, he has a nice distraction: this mysterious visitor who couldn’t be bothered to leave a name with Rachel. Pushing open the door to his office, he stops in his tracks, looking at the visitor, sitting so comfortably in his chair.

“Hey there soldier, you come here often?” BJ Hunnicutt grins.

Hawk is staring. His mouth opens, looking for a snappy retort, and not finding one, he simply smiles. “Beej. Long way from home, aren’t you?”

Beej stands, and for a second, it’s déjà vu, their first meeting in Kimpo, two strangers, one feeling everything and the other feeling nothing. _I know you,_ Hawkeye thinks. _But who the hell are you now, Beej? Who are we?_ “Well, I came down with a disease called Korea, and thought I’d better see a doctor.”

“Beej.” And then he’s slamming the door, and walking over, and Beej is familiar and warm in his arms, and some knot in his chest that he’s gotten used to ignoring loosens. Korea came home with Beej too.

“And if you don’t want me here, tell me, Hawk.”

“What _are_ you doing here, Beej?” Hawk asks, pulling away. The sun is shining out of BJ’s eyes and face and body, and he brought the sun from California, and he’ _s standing in Hawkeye’s office,_ and what does he expect, that they’ll pick up right where they left off? His eyes say yes.

“Needed… a vacation.” There’s a pause, and Hawkeye can see in his face what he isn’t saying.

“Well I could use some company. Y’know though, Beej, most people go to the beach.”

“I always thought that beach came to us,” Beej says with a smile. He steps away, and gestures to the desk. “I uh… brought you something.”

“A gift? Oh Beej, you shouldn’t have!” Hawkeye winks at him, and then stops, because Beej has brought him wildflowers. He looks up, only to find that BJ isn’t meeting his eyes.

“I should have come sooner.” _I’m sorry._

“I’d always planned on waiting for you, Beej.” _I forgive you._ They grin. “So, how’s Peg? And Erin?”

“Erin’s great. Peg’s good.”

“And what about you?”

“I have nightmares, I don’t drink as much as I did, and I’m still a surgeon.” Beej leans against the desk, and it’s so familiar that Hawk has to actively remind himself that they’re not in Potter’s office. They’re not in Korea, they’re home, and there’s peace, but there’s also a few empty spaces in Hawk, where pieces of himself used to be, before Korea.

Spaces where Beej is rapidly making himself at home with big feet and- “I see you finally shaved,” Hawk says. He doesn’t tell Beej that it takes a few years off his face, and it makes Hawk feel thousands of years older by comparison.  

It’s a bittersweet smile. “What’s left to rebel against?”

“Not everyone can handle that white picket fence,” Hawk is saying, and he knows he’s only half-joking.

“I noticed. Speaking from experience, Hawk?”

“Well that’s the thing,” Hawk says, and pauses. “Most women apparently prefer men who don’t still get their mail forwarded from the looney bin.”

“Hawk.”

He shrugs, not wanting to discuss it. “Martinis are great company.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, so Beej doesn’t see that they’re shaking. “You in town long?”

“As long as you’ll have me.”

“Beej-,”

“Hawk.” It’s soft, and then Beej is holding his hands, and Hawk leans in, their foreheads pressed together. The shouting in his head quiets down a little, and Beej’s hands are too familiar in his, because he clung on to Beej a little more tightly than he did his sanity.

 _If I had to pick one to come home with me,_ he thinks. _I’d pick you every time._

“You took your damn time,” Hawk tells him, because he can’t say what he wants to, because Beej still isn’t his, and the war is over, but it’s never really over, not for them, and Beej _knows_.

Korea came home with Hawkeye and Beej and made itself at home in each of them, and who are they without the war?

“I hate goodbyes,” Beej tells him, and Hawk wants to laugh at him, because _dammit_ he knows that better than anyone. He isn’t sure of much anymore, least of all when it comes to his best friend, but he does know this. _Who have we become, Beej_? Hawk thinks, meeting his eyes, breath catching in his throat.

And Beej has his face in his hands, and his mouth is on Hawkeye’s, and _what the hell are they doing?_ His mouth opens to BJ’s, and Hawk melts into him, but even as they kiss, all he can think is _I know you._ Kissing Beej is all warmth and comfort… and _home._

It’s too-big feet and wildflowers and shared blankets, and Korea and Mill Valley and Crabapple Cove.

It’s the man Hawkeye loved in war, and the man he loves in peace, and the man he’ll love forever if given the chance.

Beej pulls away, and it’s then that Hawk notices the pink shirt. That damn pink shirt. He grins up at Beej. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but have we actually said hello?”

“Think we might have skipped that.” Beej presses a kiss to his forehead. “Hello.”

“I’m not a stickler for manners, Beej. Just don’t…” _Don’t leave. Not again._

“I hate goodbyes,” Beej says simply. _I’m not going anywhere._ “Must say though, Hawk, you seem awful surprised to see me.”

“I am. Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“I told you I’d see you back in the States, didn’t I?” His face changes, and he’s suddenly mournful, looking down at Hawkeye. “You really thought I wouldn’t come back?”

“Well… sort of. Meatball surgery and martinis can only do so much for a friendship, Beej."

"I think you underestimate how much we have in common, Hawk."

"We were together because of Korea... what's left?” He's suddenly short of breath, because he's just given Beej a reason to leave again.

“And what about all that stuff you said about not being able to shake me?” Beej isn’t mad, but he’s looking at Hawk like there’s a puzzle piece missing.  _What do I have to do to keep you around, Beej?_

“Meant it. Still do. People leave, Beej.”

“And sometimes,” Beej tells him, leaning back in. “People stay.” He seals it with a kiss, and Hawk breathes again.

 _You know me so well, so stay,_ Hawkeye thinks, kissing him. _Stay_.


End file.
